


only humans can love in such a foolish way

by royalspring



Category: Hello Charlotte (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, POV First Person, i wrote this at 3 am trying to cope it has 3 am vibes all over it, kinda sad? I guess, the same one i had while i was writing this, tw depression, tw self harm, what could happen if charles didn't let go of his hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:28:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22820986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/royalspring/pseuds/royalspring
Summary: At that moment, I realize. Vincent is no god.
Relationships: Charles Eyler/Vincent Fennell, Charles Eyler/Vincent Wordsworth
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	only humans can love in such a foolish way

The hands of the clock keep moving towards the hour of the impending doom.  
In another reality, I let go of your hand. But this time I have the strength to push you away from your deathbed, bodies entangled together in a rough yet poetic way. There's something strange in your eyes, an emotion that travels between rage and gratitude: because I stopped you from fulfilling your plans, because maybe deep down you just wanted to be saved.  
Vincent looks at me with his eyelids widened in shock, opening and closing his mouth in an attempt to recover the words that went lost deep down his throat. I can't avert my gaze as well.  
His slender figure is trembling under the weight of my body, a shameful reaction to having his bare chest exposed like that: I can see every single one of his mistakes— galaxies of bruises, an evil purple corrupting the pure white of his skin, bandages covering horrible secrets, red strings crossing all over his body, a cruel reminder of how fragile a mind can be if trapped in an ocean of self-loathing.  
I always thought you were my god. The thought of you being just a meek and weak boy never crossed my mind– if only it did. Maybe I could've saved you. Maybe if I threw aside that idealistic version of you fabricated by my own mind you would have given up on your dangerous fantasies of self-sacrifice.  
You manage to give life to just a word. «Why?» your eyes staring deep into my soul, piercing– a glance that puts my whole being in flames.  
I pause. My voice almost cracks.  
«I couldn't let go of your hand.»  
The ethereal prince laughs at me, a sound that could shatter my own heart in a matter of seconds.  
«You're a _fool_ .» he drops his head to the ground, resigned about his fate. « _There's no hope for me left_ .»  
My chest hurts. It hurts like hell, because my recurring thoughts are now coming from my god's mouth: with his voice, they seem cold as ice, as fatal as poison, a reminder of how powerless I am in the hands of fate. When he states that, I feel like they're coming back to haunt me– to haunt us. _He is hurt. He needs help._ _  
_ At that moment, I realize. _Vincent is no god_ .  
He’s just a timid boy trying to find philosophical reasons for every aspect of his life to cope with his overwhelming anxiety.  
I tightly grip my hands on his collar, desperation having the best of me. «Or maybe you're just a coward.»  
His expression hardens. I feel like I cannot breathe anymore. «And what do you know about me?»  
He's right. I know nothing about Vincent. I know enough to think I wanna get to know him better: talking about the things we like, our lives– futile arguments that I want to discuss with him and him only.  
«I know that I don't want you to leave.»  
Selfish assertions to satisfy no other than my ego.  
Vincent stares at me in shock. He tries to conceal the happiness that silly remark gave him, but I can't help but notice the red veil coloring his ear.  
«Why do you care about me?» there's a hint of loneliness in his voice, enough to distinguish itself as a silent prayer for validation. «Do you really want me to stay?»  
«I do. I'm sure there are other people who don't want you to–»  
«I couldn't care less about those shallow relationships I made online» a tear falls down Vincent's cheek, his body twitching in order to not let his emotions take control of himself. I find even these smallest parts of him beautifully human. «I wanna know what you think. Why do you want me here?»  
_I care about you so much I want to rip my heart off my chest. I want to tell you all my flaws and the deepest parts of myself I never showed anyone. I want you to lay yourself open to me, to confess everything that wronged you— I want to cut you to pieces and search for all your imperfections, to treasure them deeply inside my own. I want to be connected with you forever._ But there's no way I can tell you this just yet.  
I smile at him. He glances at me like I'm some sort of psychopath.  
« _Because you're my prince._ »  
  
  
  
My phone buzzes. I lazily pick it up to see a message from Anri.

**"Hey! Look, my parents and I are gonna move next month"**

**"It's pretty far from here"**

**"So..."**

**"So it's over?"** **  
** I don't stutter. Actually, I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my chest now that this useless fake-pretending freakshow of a relationship is over.

 **"Yeah. Sorry about that!"** **  
** You aren't. You were just using me the whole time— just like I was letting myself be used by you.

 **"But we can keep in touch! I'll text you soon!"** **  
** _Liar_ . You won't.  
I know we're not gonna talk again now that you're done with me. But I don't let it get through me.  
In the end, _there was nothing to be sad about._

When I kiss Anri, everything seems gray. A frivolous act devoid of joy.   
But when I kiss Vincent, this world becomes my favorite canvas, his lips as the brush that brings the painting to life: I cling onto him as if there was no tomorrow for me, keeping some sort of tenderness in my touch as if I were scared Vincent was going to break any moment. Sincere words of love are whispered in his ears, his chest moving to the rhythm of his heavy breathing as his rosy cheeks are begging for air. Under this light, I realize something about Vincent.  
«I have to tell you something.»  
That Vincent relies on me maybe too much for his own good: when he's sad, he needs my words of advice to feel better, when his demons overpower him he needs me to rescue him from the darkness within him— he needs me.  
_I was all he had. And he was all I needed._ _  
_ «I'm not actually a god.» his eyes wander, shame crawling in his grey-ish pupils. «I'm just some stupid guy that likes to play as someone who isn't actually him because he's scared everyone would hate him if he started being his true self.»  
Oh, Vincent. If only you knew–if only you realized how much I love even the twisted parts of your existence.  
«Can you show it to me, Vince?» I asked. «Your true self. Everything you're trying to hide.»  
A pause.  
«You would just hate me.»  
«You're right. I hate you so much I kissed you out of spite to convince you I actually liked you. Truly the work of a mastermind.»  
Vincent scoffs, covering half of his face with his arm in order to hide his bashfulness. «Did you grow an attitude over night or what?»  
«Nope. This is just me.»  
«You're insufferable.»  
«Then why are you still here? Subjecting yourself to Mr. Insufferable Guy?»  
No response from him. Instead, our lips touch again, a strange kind of warmth I've never experienced before– something I don’t want to lose again.  
_Again?_  
«Do you hate me?» Vincent's sudden question puts me off guard, confusion dancing all across my face.  
«I told you I don't?»  
«Even if I'm not the prince you dreamed about?»  
«I mean, you're really short, but–»  
«I will rob you of your liver.»  
The melody of our laughter echoes in the empty room, a comforting feeling to lighten the atmosphere. Mundane things like joking around and wasting time over useless worries are what makes us indisputably mortal. I bump our foreheads together, a smile in contrast with his blank expression.  
«I _adore_ you, Vincent.»  
Not like, not love, but something more that cannot be expressed with words. Something more powerful even than love, an excruciating yet saccharine feeling I never want to let go off.  
_I adore you, Vincent. I adore everything about you that you hate_.  
His face grows hot. I don't have to open my eyes to know what's happening.  
«Me too, Charlie.» my heart skips a beat hearing him calling me like that. «I will adore you more if you do me a favor.»  
«That is?»  
«Don't leave me.» my eyes widened in return, a prayer to a fake god. «Promise you will stay by my side. Then I won't leave again.»  
I drop my head on his shoulder, cradled by the gentle touch of his fingers caressing my head.  
«Is that all? I promise.»  
_Since I have no intention of living in a world without you._ _  
_ He embraces me in such a loving way I feel myself crying upon sensing his skin against mine. I can feel his breath on my neck, his hair brushing against my cheek and a foreign warmth engulfing my body– an intimate moment that didn't need anything else to be perfect.  
It was then that I finally felt truly happy. So happy that Scarlet doesn't appear like a threat to me anymore. We are alone in the vastness of the universe, and nothing else matters.  
Vincent is here. I couldn't be happier.  
«Charles?» his clear voice breaks the silence, a sweet serenade in a world full of pain.  
«Yes?»  
« _I'm glad I'm alive._ »  
I throw my gloves aside and cup his face with my hands, looking at him as if he was an old treasure I searched my whole life for: I don't care if my hands feel dirty– for him, I could endure anything.  
A kiss on his forehead is all I need to convey my feelings.  
« _I'm glad I'm alive as well._ »


End file.
